Glass Heart Syndrome

Chapter 18

Eren returned to the safehouse well past midnight, his senses still heightened from the night's mission. The tension between him and Alista was palpable, neither willing to break the silence as they slipped back inside. Niall was waiting, perched on a stool with an unsettling calm.

"Successful, I take it?" he asked, his tone devoid of any real curiosity.

Alista nodded, handing over the satchel the informant had entrusted them with. "He's on his way out of the city. Clean extraction, no loose ends."

Niall took the satchel, giving Alista a slight nod before turning his attention to Eren. "And you? Any... reservations?"

Eren met his gaze steadily. "None. It was necessary."

"Good," Niall said, an approving gleam in his eye. "The council's tightening their grip, and we can't afford mercy."

The room was silent as Niall examined the satchel's contents—a few scrolls, each marked with the council's emblem, and a ledger filled with encoded records. He scanned through, his expression growing darker with each page. Finally, he looked up, his gaze sharp.

"There's something more," he said, his voice low. "The council's been tracking us. They know more than they're letting on."

Alista's eyes narrowed. "Do we have a leak?"

"Possibly," Niall replied, closing the ledger with a thud. "Or they're watching us closer than we thought. Either way, this isn't safe anymore."

Eren felt the implications settle over him, cold and unyielding. He'd known the council was ruthless, but he hadn't considered how deeply they might infiltrate Niall's network. For the first time, the walls of the safehouse seemed fragile, the shadows concealing more than just secrets.

"We'll need to move the safehouse, then," Alista said, her tone pragmatic, though her gaze flickered toward Eren, as if she expected him to have an answer.

Niall nodded. "I'll handle that. For now, you both need to lay low. The council's eyes are everywhere, and they'll stop at nothing to root us out."

Eren's fists clenched. The council—the very institution he'd once admired, trusted, even respected. Now, they were nothing more than another enemy, just like the others who had betrayed him. But unlike the faceless mercenaries and thugs he'd fought, the council's influence was vast, their reach unrelenting.

As Niall rose and left the room, Alista lingered, her eyes fixed on Eren. "You're quiet," she remarked, her voice softer than usual.

He shrugged, not willing to reveal more than he had to. "Just thinking."

She tilted her head, studying him. "About the council? Or the people who get caught in the crossfire?"

The question struck a nerve, and he felt a spark of irritation. "If you're trying to guilt me, it won't work."

Alista's lips curved into a slight smirk. "It's not guilt. Just an observation. You're walking a fine line, Eren. There's only so much blood you can spill before it stains you."

He scoffed, turning away from her probing gaze. "Maybe I don't care anymore. Maybe that's what it takes."

She didn't respond immediately, letting the silence stretch between them. "Just remember, once you've crossed that line, there's no coming back."

Eren felt her words digging into his mind, but he pushed them aside, unwilling to let them take root. "I'm doing what needs to be done."

"Are you?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, before she turned and left him alone with his thoughts.

As the door clicked shut, Eren sank onto the cot, his mind churning. Alista's words echoed in his ears, refusing to be silenced. He tried to shake them off, but the question lingered—had he crossed a line? And if he had, what did that mean for the man he was becoming?

The night stretched on, the weight of his choices pressing down on him, suffocating, relentless. And as he finally drifted into a fitful sleep, the darkness that had begun to creep into his soul took root, growing stronger, deeper, consuming the remnants of the gentle soul he'd once been.